


If Love Is Blind I Guess I'll Buy Myself a Cane

by Tethysian



Series: Love the One You're With [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha Hux, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Dom/sub, Fail sex, Fear of Abandonment, Kink Negotiation, Knotting, M/M, Masochism, Omega Kylo Ren, Oral Knotting, Painplay, Ridiculousness, Rough Sex, S&M, Sexual Inexperience, Spanking, Unintentional drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-21 16:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6058471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tethysian/pseuds/Tethysian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after they first start having sex, Hux and Kylo eventually get the hang of it. </p><p>Sequel to "If You Can't Be With the One You Hate." Hux and Kylo stumble through embarrassing accidents, general stupidity, miscommunication, and mistrust on their way to something that resembles a relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [Locomotive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8D6k3LKeMA0) by Guns n' Roses, which is a great Kylux song.
> 
> This picks up pretty much right after the last part, still pre-TFA, and will probably contain the same amount of crack and porn as the last one, so sorry about that, again. Don't let the first chapter fool you, they'll be getting more kinky in the future.
> 
> Seeing as this is an A/B/O universe, I approached some things differently than I would with canon, specifically family dynamics and relationships.

Kylo is alone when he wakes up. 

He rolls over under the sheets, stretching out from his fingers to his toes and revelling in the smoothness of a high tread count and the coolness of the controlled environment after burning for so many days. 

He strains his ears for any sound of the general moving about in the refresher of the outer chamber, but it's all silent.

Kylo is used to Hux running off after their ruts or heats, or even disappearing in the midst of them when he feels like he needs a time-out. It never quite stops bothering him in that niggling way he recognises as a biological discomfort rather than a rational one.

 _Everything_ hurts when he gets up. It isn't necessarily a bad pain, but he still has to support himself with a hand on the wall when he slowly makes his way to the refresher. The skin on his back feels like it's two sizes too small, pulling every time he moves, and he's acutely aware of the limp. 

He dials the lights up as high as they will go and turns his back to the mirror; admires the welts and stripes over his skin; pink and purple and blue and still holding their distinctive shape. There are two thin raised lines high up on his back, criss-crossing over his right shoulder blade, where the skin has broken. He traces the line, feeling the rough start of scabbing under his fingers.

The belt is too wide to break the skin efficiently, really. It'd take a switch. 

Bruises in the shape of fingers and teeth stand out on his hips and shoulders - a lot more than there usually is, and he feels some disappointment that Hux isn't there to compare with. 

Hux isn't there, but his bathtub is. Kylo hasn't had a bath in longer than he cares to remember. In space you count yourself lucky if you don't have to regulate yourself to sonic showers, and Starkiller Base has hardly been built with comfort in mind.

It fills up quickly from the many vents on the sides, instantly steaming, and he sinks in slowly. He submerges himself down to his shoulders, then to his nose, his knees and toes rising out of the water like islands, and feels like a child again for a moment. 

He leans his head against the hard brim of the tub. It's very quiet, and when his ears drop under the surface all he hears is blood and air moving through his body. He opens up his senses to the thrum of the ship around him, almost like a living thing, and meditates. 

When he hears the hiss of the door opening in the outer chamber he can tell it isn't Hux, and when he opens his eyes it's the sight of a droid that greets him. It's standing over him with three of its many limbs extended a few inches above his head. There's a sponge in one, a towel, and something that looks like a flask of bath salt. 

It's a domestic droid with a sort of salmon-pink paint job that's probably supposed to look disarming. It has a frustum-shaped body and a dome-shaped head and a middle section full of retractable arms and appendages between them. It looks vaguely familiar; it's hard to forget a colour like that.

"Wait," he tries to say when the flask starts to tip to the side, but it's too late and he grumbles at the grit of the crystals at the bottom of the tub before they dissolve. 

In moments his nose is filled with the chalky scent of minerals and vormur and something else that he can't quite put his finger on but calls to mind some of the worst backwater dens he has ever had the misfortune to visit. Almost immediately he feels a dulling of the ache in his muscles and his skin.

"What was in that thing?" 

The droid rattles off a list of chemical components that make little sense to him. Not even when it helpfully projects them onto the wall.

" _No_ ," he says more sharply when the droid produces the bacta next and approaches him with its creepy roll-on appendage. "I don't care if it goes against your directives," he maintains at its exasperated beeps and boops. "Your objection is noted. You are no longer required. Leave." 

The droid fails to move. "What do you mean you _can't_? ...I am not going fall asleep and drown!"

The droid's stony silence is impregnable.

"Go- go stand in the corner," he orders. The droid rolls away and wedges itself in between the sink and the towel rack. Kylo sinks back into the water and tries to regain some of the peace he felt before he was interrupted. It doesn't come easily.

The next time the door opens it's the general. 

Hux pauses in the doorway to the refresher, fully dressed in his uniform and carrying the scent of fresh-ground caf and baked goods with him. He doesn't avert his eyes and Kylo doesn't make any effort to cover himself.

In the light of day it feels like they haven't seen each other for ages, and he can't help looking now, at the clenched jaw and the creased brow and the hair; at its most orange under the stark refresher light.

"I received a notification about overuse of water," is the first thing out of Hux's mouth.

Kylo wriggles his toes in the warm current from the vent at the foot of the tub.

"I was off the ship for two weeks," Kylo reminds him. "I didn't want my share to go to waste."

"I see that your grasp of reality hasn't improved during your absence." 

"What's the point of having a tub if you don't use it?"

Hux's lip curls up over his teeth. There's nothing but condescension and disdain on his face when he looks down his nose at Kylo, and it's ridiculous how that makes his heart beat faster. "I use it when the water supply allows for it."

"When would that be?"

Hux's mouth makes a moue of discontent. "Last week," he says, and Kylo smirks, delighted to have caught him in a lie. 

"Move over." Hux sighs. Kylo pulls his feet up to make room for him at the other edge of the tub. 

It really isn't designed for two full grown men. Water goes splashing over the brim and there's no avoiding touching each other as they crowd for space, not that Kylo tries very hard not to.

Hux allows the droid to approach him with its abundance of helpful tools and attachments. He sits passively as it pours a pail of water over his head, slicking his hair to his scalp until he shakes the water off like a child, looking perfectly at ease with domestic droids. Kylo watches him from behind his knees. 

"You were raised by droids, weren't you?"

"They were present. What of it?" Hux asks, and he sounds neither offended nor defensive.

Kylo shrugs. He doesn't ask what a childhood without the touch of your parents is like, nor does he dwell on memories of his mother's hands or his father's arms. 

The droid in question helpfully supplies the general with a sponge which he approaches Kylo with, encroaching on his side of the tub.

"Turn around."

Even the soft texture of the sponge feels like needles pulling under his skin, but he still curves his back into his touch, stretching the skin taut so all the marks stand out. 

Hux inspects his work, the press of his fingers on the welts occasionally startling moans out of Kylo's mouth, and he doesn't once threaten to heal them.

He traces the length of the two cuts; softened by the water but still ragged, and Kylo hears him holding his breath even as his own shudders out of him. He wonders if the water masks the scent of his arousal or if Hux can already smell it on him. 

When Hux's hand trails up to his neck he tilts his head to the side, bares himself to his touch without a second's thought. Hux's bare fingers pressing down on the tender spot in the junction of his neck and shoulder has him shivering.

"You wouldn't let me-" Hux trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. "I want you to consider it."

"I can't have two masters."

Hux scoffs. "Are you planning on being obedient?" His hands keep wandering. There's a lazy indulgence to his touch that makes Kylo drowsy; Hux's thumb pressing down under the edge of his jaw so his palm envelops his neck.

Kylo shrugs, uncertain, suddenly. Snoke hasn't exactly educated him on relationship courtesy, and he can't tell whether the fairy tales he was fed as a child have any bearing in the world he lives in.

He doesn't even really know what Hux looks for in an partner, now that he thinks of it. Most of his previous assumptions have been disproved by the baffling fact that Hux thinks Kylo fits any of his requirements. 

"Snoke isn't your alpha."

Kylo isn't sure what Snoke is. Something that transcends gender and designation. The truth is that no one has held that distinction since his mother. It's a space she vacated and he has failed to fill since. 

"No," he says, and it's as much agreement as it is rejection. 

He turns around. Hux doesn't move back so they're tucked together closely in his end of the tub, some wariness in his eyes that dissipates when Kylo leans forward, gaze dropping down to Hux's mouth before he kisses him lightly on the lips. "Are you going to prove me wrong, General?"

There are bracelets of bruises on Hux's arms and finger-shaped dots trailing down his chest and his sides; dark marks on his neck. He wonders if Hux's back is lined with welts from his nails.

 _This is mine_ , he thinks, trying it out in the confines of his own mind, and there's a satisfaction that goes with it. Everything from the wet-slicked hair on his head to his soft, well-tended feet and the cock that rests between his legs, looking deceptively gentle since Kylo has seldom seen it when it isn't being put into immediate use. All the same it feels like a pity _not_ to when it's right there.

Hux's fingers grip his jaw and forces his head up to meet his eyes.

"Stop that."

"Why? You can look but I can't?"

"Don't be crude about it. It's unbecoming."

Hux's wrists are slender under Kylo's hands when he pins them to the edge of the tub and slides his legs over his lap to straddle him, skin smooth and slippery in the water. 

Kylo leans down over him, enjoying the way Hux's eyes dilate under his shadow and how he rises up to meet him. His mouth warm and wet and a little demanding. He moves slowly, grinding his ass over Hux's cock while it hardens, his face burning, but it's worth it to see the flush over Hux's cheeks and the way his eyes flutter closed and his lips part.

He has to let got to steady the alpha's cock under him, Hux's free arm wrapping steadying around his waist as he starts sinking down on it. He braces himself for the sting, chewing on his lip as he slowly takes in more until he settles down flush on Hux's lap with a groan.

He's enraptured by the look on Hux's face; the colour of his lashes, darkened by water but fluttering when Kylo slowly rolls his hips forward.

"Do that again," Hux gasps. 

He coaxes Kylo's abused lip from his mouth with his thumb and Kylo presses his teeth down on the digit instead, traps it between his molars until Hux hisses and pulls it free, tapping his cheek one in warning. 

His hands settle on Kylo's hips, following their motion without making any effort to direct him. There's none of the urgency or ferocity from before and Kylo is satisfied just to watch him when he drops his head back against the wall with a groan. The beads of water clinging to the line of this throat drip down when he swallows, and he looks more relaxed than Kylo has ever seen him.

Then Kylo looks up and remembers there's another presence in the room.

"Hux, the droid."

Hux's groan is the very definition of long-suffering. "Just ignore it."

At Kylo's extended silence he gives up and turns as much as he can to address the bot. "Droid, dismissed."

The droid stalwartly ignores the command, its innate programming to preserve human life overriding the direct command.

"It thinks we're going to drown because the water is drugged," Kylo says.

"The water is _what?_ " Hux turns his accusing glare on Kylo whose hackles rise in response.

"It wasn't my idea." 

"I never presume to make sense of anything you do," Hux spits at him, and Kylo would be more offended by the curl of his lip if he didn't find it so attractive. "Droid, come here."

The droid rolls closer and Hux flips a panel open on its side and inserts his own override code. It powers down instantly; a lifeless husk hovering next to the tub not an arm's length from then.

"That's not any better." 

"Shut up."

Hux's fingers catch the hair at the base of his neck, pulling far too tightly on the tender skin there for comfort. He brings Kylo down to his level, flush against his shoulder while he thrusts up, forcing a startled groan out of Kylo with every snap of his hips.

"You know you're mine already," Hux pants, and Kylo nods and sucks bruises into the soft skin under his jaw.

It still feels like something is missing until Hux ducks down to his level and catches his gasping mouth. His tongue is rough, the inside oh his mouth soft, but it's his adulation that Kylo eats up with every press of his lips and wet swipe of his tongue.

Hux's movements grow jerky and impatient, and Kylo braces one hand against the bottom of the tub to keep himself from falling and wraps the other tight around cock. It's good but so frustrating - sensation softened too much by the heat and the water when he wants it sharp and hard, but it's difficult to articulate when he's already half gone with pleasure.

Hux seems to get it anyway and he comes with Hux's fingers digging into the cuts on his back, the heel of his hand pressing into bruises, and the other twined with Kylo's on his cock. Every shift and thrust of Hux's cock drawing out his pleasure and his hand squeezing out the last of his release.

The sudden onset of endorphins leaves him light-headed even bore he feels Hux coming, his knot swelling up to its full extent and locking them together, pressing sweetly against the walls of his passage even as he feels Hux filling him up.

The General's eyes are closed, his brow furrowed in exertion before the lines smooth out, and it's good, in some way that goes beyond sex or orgasms, just being close to him.

Kylo wants to touch him _everywhere_ , and he does, hands trailing over Hux's shoulders and chest while he trails kisses over the side of his mouth to his ear. Hux meanwhile seems less interested in kissing than slipping down the side of the tub and almost drowning himself. He grabs onto the sides and pulls himself up, shoving Kylo upright.

"Are you trying to kill me? Lean back."

Kylo pouts but does as he says, lets Hux guide him back so he's sitting in the cradle of his hips rather than on top of him. He knows his eyes are closed but he isn't aware that he's listing to the side before Hux catches him.

"Are you even awake?"

He hums and opens his mouth when Hux's fingers slip past hips lips, curling his tongue around his index finger and sucking lightly, just because he can.

"Oh, _now_ you're sweet," Hux grumbles, pressing down on his wriggling tongue. "Tongue out." 

Whatever he sees doesn't satisfy him because next he's prying at Kylo's eyelids and making a nuisance of himself.

"Have you actually eaten anything today? You look even pastier than usual."

"No." When would he have had the time? "Stop moving around! You're ruining my afterglow."

"I am _so sorry_ that you weigh a ton and I'm stuck under you," Hux grits out through clenched teeth. "This was a terrible idea, you're turning into a prune."

Kylo is barely listening to him. He lays his head down on Hux's shoulder and despite his curved back it's comfortable enough while he watches Hux try to reach the back panel of the droid again.

He eventually manages to re-activate it and it comes to with a querying noise, its domed head swivelling around to take in its surroundings. 

"Bring us something to eat."

Now Kylo remembers it. Specifically he remembers it having a built-in heating storage while all the other droids were bringing him cold custard. He tries to remember if it drugged him last time.

The droid beeps stubbornly at Hux who splutters. "Of all the _fucking_ \- alright, see? I'm _draining the water_ , now get out of my sight."

The droid rolls out of the refresher, _finally_ , while the water around them gurgles down the drain. Under his head Hux's body heaves with short, aggravated breaths. 

"You're supposed to relax," Kylo tells him helpfully.

Hux seems more likely to get violent. Kylo isn't opposed, but he's too tired to get worked up about it. He closes his eyes and rests until Hux gets the hint. It's not like he can go anywhere, anyway. 

They do fall asleep. Kylo wakes up with a start when the droid zaps them.


	2. Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is neither sane nor informed, but at least it's consensual. :|

Things don't turn out the way Hux expects them to.

 

First of all he hadn't expected Ren to actually run off and _throw himself at someone else_ at the first chance he got. Hux's outrage still burns hot and resentful in the pit of his belly, hungry and unsated, because he can't think of anything that might satisfy it save from Ren's caved-in chest under his boot, and so he has to learn to live with it.

 

He takes deep breaths. He pushes it down.

 

They have an understanding now. It isn't a bond and it isn't the immaculate perfection of their previous arrangement, (which he looks back on wistfully, aside from the sex which is markedly better now,) and Hux isn't at all convinced that it isn't a weaker option than either of the other two.

 

What _really_ rankles is that he actually thought this would work. Jumped up on hormones (or drugged fucking bath water) it had all seemed so simple and reasonable, and he had somehow managed to forget that neither he nor Ren know the first thing about cultivating a relationship. They don't even like each other and have certainly never willingly sought out each other's company before.

 

It isn't simple - it's anything but. They haven't so much as touched each other since those last few days of his rut. They didn't use to do so before, either, so he hadn't expected _lust_ to be this much of a problem, but it is, and frustration builds up into something unbearable. It's an impotent, helpless feeling, and Hux doesn't like feeling helpless.

 

Ren skulks around the ship in his usual manner, somehow more skittish than before but all the more aggravating for it; disappearing behind corners and slipping out of rooms just as Hux enters them, impregnable behind the cover of his mask and his robes, and Hux fantasizes about shoving that helmet through the wall, preferably with Ren's head still in it.

 

Other times the knight lingers after staff meetings and debriefings, silent under his mask with the empty visor turned in Hux's direction while the other officers file out of the room, giving no indication whatsoever of what the fuck he wants while Hux obstinately refuses to give it to him regardless.

 

And it's hard to say which one of them he's more annoyed with. (Ren. Ren, _obviously_ , but he will consider himself a close second.)

 

\------

 

It's been days, well over a week since they got back to the _Finalizer_ and were last alone together in a room. And what finally prompts Ren to seek out his company is his requisition for a new command shuttle because he wrapped the last one around a planet.

 

Ren tries to blame the pilot, and everyone else on board in succession, ("I was _preoccupied_ at the moment!") but it's a moot point since the rest of the crew all perished, and are thus unavailable for Hux to take his aggression out on.

 

"There are any number of shuttles available for you to choose from-"

 

"I liked the old model."

 

Of course he liked the old model; it was back and possibly the most needlessly dramatic shuttle in the entire fleet. Hux manfully doesn't throw his hands into the air but what really pisses him off is that Ren can probably tell that's what he wants to do.

 

"Why don't we paint one black, that'll be far less costly than requisitioning another custom-made ship that you'll mindlessly squander on a whim."

 

"This is _not_ a matter of finances." Ren leans over the table, both hands flat against the surface, pressing down so hard Hux hears the leather squeaking over the tabletop. He stares Hux down through the faceless mask and the vocabulator crackles with every carefully enunciated word. It would be a fine display of intimidation if Hux wasn't already inured to it.

 

"I am a commander of this ship. I am _not_ your subordinate. You do not have the right to contradict me, General. I want it. You'll get if for me."

 

"And yet you have to go through me."

 

"Give me what I want. That's what you're here for."

 

Hux really ought to give in. There's no reason not to, and if Snoke has to hear about _shopping lists_ from Kylo, it won't turn out well for either one of them. These are all things that they have learned through trial and error. But Hux feels like he's being consumed from the inside by this senseless frustration, and the only thing that makes him feel even remotely better is making Ren suffer as much as he is.

 

"No. Now, if you're quite done, I have a meeting in half an hour that I have to prepare for."

 

He almost smiles at the distorted snarl that wrangles its way out through the mask before Ren's fingers are prying at the clasp under his chin and he's tossing the helmet aside.

 

"You are being completely unreasonable."

 

He's aggravated - eyes bright and hair tousled, and his forehead a little damp as if their argument has been physically taxing, but there's a calm to him that infuriates Hux, and not for the first time he feels like it's something Ren has stolen from him. Why else would he feel so out of control whenever the other man is around? He has never in his life had any problems working with Omegas before now, and it just goes to show that Kylo Ren would be the one to ruin his spotless record.

 

And even now Hux is taken aback by the sight of Ren's naked face, almost obscene in how very unguarded it is, between his eyes and his mouth and the red in his cheeks, drawn out in anger - every emotion on display.

 

"Am I?" Hux snarls. "How does it feel?"

 

Anger flashes in Ren's eyes, but there's a softness to them that no amount of violence or evil posturing can erase completely, and Hux feels _something_ in himself respond to it in a way that he desperately doesn't want to examine any closer.

 

Ren yanks him forward by the lapels of his uniform and crushes their mouths together with enough force to bruise. Hux's lip gets pinched between their teeth, one brief second of pain that's lost in the pleasure that follows. There's no resistance in Ren when Hux grips him by the back of his head and pushes his tongue into his mouth. He kisses with tongue and teeth, chasing the helpless groans Ren makes whenever Hux is a little too rough with him.

 

Ren rounds the table somehow without his mouth once leaving Hux's, and their hands are at each other immediately; pushing and tearing at clothes with little care for anything else.

 

"This is not a good time for this," Hux grinds out when can tear his mouth free.

 

"I don't care," Ren says, which is so typical of him he might as well have it tattooed on his forehead.

 

Hux knows this is no way to conduct himself during an active shift, but there's little room for anything in his mind but the urge to strip Ren down to the skin, to the bone, if need be, until all of him is as bare before him as Hux feels.

 

He gets Ren out of his robes and pushes him down over the desk with little care for what's already on it, and pulls his pants down over the swell of his ass. Ren moans when the waist catches on his already swollen cock, but he doesn't sound displeased at the rough treatment.

 

"Fuck me," he pants, as if Hux isn't working up to that already.

 

He's tight, after two weeks of abstinence and he isn't in his heat now, and makes a sound somewhere between distress and desperation when Hux forces two fingers inside of him. Tight but already getting wet, his walls fluttering and slick around Hux's fingers, gripping and opening like he can't make up his mind, and it's all Hux can do not to pull them out and just force himself inside right then.

 

"What's this? You haven't been playing with yourself?"

 

The sound of his own panting breaths is disconcertingly loud while he works his trousers open with his free hand and draws himself out. his cool fingers are a relief on his hot skin and he gives himself a few strokes even when he doesn't really need it.

Ren shakes his head.

 

"Why not?"

 

He grunts with the annoyance of someone who doesn't want to tear their attention away from what they're doing, which is currently fucking himself back on Hux's fingers. And Hux stills as realization comes in a little trickle of satisfaction.

 

"Because you want me to do it?"

 

Ren doesn't answer him, but he doesn't need to; the lack of his masks shows exposes the flush that blooms over his cheeks and the way he bites his lip. And that's enough.

 

Hux pulls out, grips Ren's hips with slippery fingers and presses him down against the edge of the table and guides himself inside in one smooth, slow slide.

 

Ren cries out when he pushes through the tight ring of muscle, but he presses back into it, leaving both of them with little time to adjust, and struggling against Hux's grip on him.

 

He's fussy and uncooperative and it brings Hux back to those first heats and what a _nightmare_ it was to get him to keep still, only his own patience is so frayed now that he can't even remember what having any feels like.

 

He grabs Ren by the back of his neck and presses him down, crowds him tighter against the edge of the table and as far into him as he can get until there isn't any room for him to move. "Palms on the table."

 

Kylo obeys him; hands flat to the surface with his fingers splayed out prettily, and it would be so satisfying if the rest of him wasn't still squirming around.

 

"Would you _stop it_ ," Hux snarls, feels the encroaching tide of fury like flames licking up his body, his breath growing short and he's hyper-aware of the paperweight on his table and how nice the weight of it would feel in his hand. "I am disconcertingly close to hurting you right now."

 

Kylo's breath hitches a little - a moment's laxness in his body before he starts up again, and Hux groans. He has the creeping suspicion that in his current state Ren might actually _lie there_ and let him try kill him, and it disturbs him more than his own violent urges.

 

They aren't good for each other.

 

A good match is supposed to bring out the best in each partner, but whatever Ren provokes in him feels like the opposite. It's something bitter and hard-edged that wants to see blood well up under the cuts his nails make. And no matter how satisfying it feels, it's unproductive and wantonly destructive and its getting harder and harder to shove it back in its box.

 

"That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to hurt you."

 

Kylo moans, as if Hux doesn't already know, when he's begging for every time he opens his fucking mouth. Hux feels the familiar presence of him tugging at his mind, grasping and prying the same way his hands were a moment ago. "Get out of my head."

 

"Let it out," Kylo says. He loses his breath when Hux snaps his hips into him and his groan trails off into a drawl. Infuriating. "You know you want to."

 

It's in moment like this that Hux recognizes the madness of wanting to bond with this raging inferno of insanity, and there's no conceivable excuse he can give himself for _why_ he wants it, other than that he does.

 

Having Ren as an ally makes sense; he is the most powerful omega in the known galaxy, possibly barring Skywalker himself, but there's a mental aspect to the bond that should _terrify_ him, especially with a force-sensitive mate.

 

He pushes Ren's shirt further up his body, exposing the pale expanse of his back to his eyes.

The marks Hux left there have faded. Even the lashes that broke the skin are nearly gone; shadows under new skin. There's no scarring at all, but Hux doesn't mind because it means he gets to start over.

 

"We are _not_ doing this again." Hux declares, as much for his own ears as Ren's. They're treating their relationship like a boiler neither one of them wants to keep an eye on, and apparently that's about as smart as the analogy would suggest. "Next time you _ask_ me. Or I ask you."

 

Ren makes a noise of agreement, lost somewhere between moans and bitten-off gasps as he shifts back into Hux's hips slamming into him, beyond the point of stringing words together.

 

Hux sinks his teeth into the fleshy muscle under his ribs just to the side of his spine, and Ren cries out into the surface of the table, his back bucking up into Hux's grip. Hux sinks his teeth in harder and Ren's voice rises in a crescendo, his body helplessly squeezing down on Hux's cock like he doesn't have any control over it.

 

Hux leaves three marks on him, one more between his shoulder blades and one on the side of his neck, glowing red and bearing clear imprints of his teeth.

 

He takes Kylo's hair in his fist and looks at the bite on his neck while he fucks into him, harder and meaner than he usually does, picturing it hiding under Kylo's high collar for days before it will even start to pale; purple and black at first before it fades into yellow.

 

Kylo comes and it takes Hux by surprise. He's still got both hands pressed against the desk and he hasn't even asked to touch himself, just shudders apart under him and whimpers, mouth open and wet where he's fucking drooling over Hux's polished desktop, his passage milking his cock, coaxing him into following him. Hux holds off out of sheer spite.

 

His next thrust forward bangs Kylo's hips into the edge of the desk and Hux revels in the wince that flits across his face.

 

"Terrible manners, what are we supposed to do about that?"

 

His clothes are sticking to him uncomfortably, sweat coating his skin, a few strands of hair getting into his eyes having escaped the pomade, and it's really rather annoying, but the swollen base of his cock is already catching on Kylo's rim, and he could loose an arm right now and not particularly care about it until after he's had his release.

 

Kylo's entire body is shivering with the aftershocks, overwhelmed and oversensitised, worse the longer Hux keeps going, but he's moaning like it's the best thing ever, and Hux can't take his eyes off him.

 

There's water gathered in the dimple of Kylo's eye that spills over the bridge of his nose when he moves, and his hands leave imprints of condensation behind when he lifts them, just when Hux feels like praising him for being so good. Kylo reaches back and grabs at his hip, trying to pull him closer

 

Hux laughs, sharp and breathless. "No. Do you think I have the time to be stuck to you for the next half hour? Some of us have work to do."

 

Kylo is whining with every push and pull now, his inner walls fluttering sweetly around Hux's length, fingers clenching into fists and his lip caught between his teeth, but the heat he manages to put behind his glare is impressive.

 

Hux shudders, so close he can feel it, and Kylo's eyes widen in alarm.

 

"Hux," he pleads urgently, voice thick and gasping, and Hux wonders how close he actually comes to breaking him in that moment.

 

He isn't sure whether it's weakness or generosity that makes him give in, or if he merely does it without thinking, pushes himself inside to the hilt, knot and all, and Ren's entire body goes lax with relief, except for where it locks tight around his knot, throbbing lightly while Hux spends himself inside of him.

 

Hux whites out for a while, his weight bearing Kylo down into the desk until he finds his wits again and somehow figures out how to work his legs. He tugs Kylo up with him and takes a few unsteady steps and sinks back into his chair, one arm holding Ren's waist who settles back into him with a sigh.

 

It's uncomfortable; he's still wearing most of his uniform and it feels sweaty and muggy, and he doesn't even want to think about the stains, or maybe he just can't be bothered caring about them.

 

"I suppose you're happy now," Hux says, but there's no heat in it.

 

Kylo turns around; just enough to put both of his arms around Hux's shoulders and hug him. He's really too big to be sitting in anyone's lap, let alone Hux's, but he doesn't let that stop him.

 

He isn't even crying so Hux isn't sure why he's seeking comfort, but he's not going anywhere - he can't - until Kylo gets off him.

 

"Hux," he says, "Hux, this is important."

 

He sounds drunk, wavering as he tries to sit up straight and meet Hux's eyes. His pupils are so blown they look entirely black and they flit from feature to feature on Hux's face with the tenderness of a caress. "You need to hold me."

 

Hux rolls his eyes. _Hold me._ "I am holding you." It's difficult to avoid.

 

"No, not just now."

 

Hux's legs are falling asleep, and everything around them smells like sex, and he will need to have another shower before he's fit to be seen by anyone, yet Ren has his undivided attention when he swallows and stumbles to get his point across in his clumsy, too-intimate way.

 

He feels less like a person and more like something that belongs to Hux more than to himself, and its easy to indulge him in that moment.

 

"You need to tell me, beforehand, if you- if you're not going to..." he inhales sharply at the end of the sentence and rests his head against Hux's in exhaustion.

 

"Why?" Hux doesn't point out that he _did_ say before they started that he didn't have time for this.

 

"I just need to know." He says sullenly, and Hux miraculously reads the _'if you're going to leave'_ in his glare.

 

" Oh," he says. That sounds like a perfectly reasonable biological response in retrospect. Now if he can only convince Ren to follow some kind of schedule rather than bursting in at any time of the day and demanding his attention. "And you need to start asking and _stop pushing me_. I can't read your mind."

 

It feels more like a compromise than a concession on the knight's part, but he nods slowly, his skin warm and sweaty against Hux's forehead, and ugh. No.

 

He rolls the chair closer to the desk and grabs his datapad. He surreptitiously reschedules his meeting - not actually that big of a deal when you're the commanding officer - and sends a requisition to engineering.

 

"And order me that fucking ship." Ren says drowsily.

 

"I just did, and don't swear, it's unseemly."

 

Ren tilts back to give him a look that's more confused than indignant. "What? You do it all the time."

 

"Does that bother you?"

 

"No."

 

"Then there was really no reason to bring it up, was there?"

 

Kylo makes a noise of frustration but he's too tried to argue the point, which is what Hux is counting on anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank all of your for your patience while I took a month to get this chapter out. Comments are very much appreciated. This story often makes me doubt my own sanity so I like to hear what you guys think, or if you have any questions or concerns. 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	3. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been more preoccupied with the BigBang than I had expected, but I'm definitively still working on this. Thank you all so much for all the kudos and the encouraging comments, they mean the world to me. <3

The relief Hux feels when Ren first puts his mouth on him is palpable.

 

He's horrible at it. Ren doesn't know what the fuck he is doing, and Hux is reluctant to tell him because that's the part he enjoys the most. Ren hasn't said as much, but it's clear that this isn't something he's been practicing on that resistance pilot.

 

Hux can tell. He really is that bad.

 

But Kylo is determined to learn and he approaches sucking cock with a fervour Hux had previously assumed he reserved only for his mystical religious pursuits. So he lets Kylo slobber and choke and scrape his teeth over the sensitive skin of his dick until the knight finally gets enough of it after he chokes for the third time and nearly retches.

 

Kylo fumbles for the hand resting on the top of his head until Hux looks down at him. He takes in the flushed cheeks and his tearing, red-rimmed eyes. The frustrated look on his face which wakes a little shiver of arousal in Hux's belly that has nothing to do with Kylo's mouth on him.

 

"Let me in."

 

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" Hux asks.         

 

Kylo stares at him mulishly. "It would be easier if I could hear what you're thinking."

 

It's the first time he has _asked_ Hux rather than just trampled inside and rifled through his thoughts at his own discretion, and it's curiosity as much as a desire to encourage good behaviour that makes Hux say, "alright".

 

Sometimes Hux feels it when Ren reads him, sometimes he doesn't, but this time there's a distinctive presence, separate from him - an awareness brushing against his yet keeping at a distance, almost politely. Silent and attentive.

 

 _Good boy_ , he thinks. He doesn't really mean anything by it, but Kylo's fingers clench around his.

 

***

 

Kylo still tells him "no" when he asks, but he lets Hux touch him on the side of the neck where the mating mark would be, with fingers and mouth and even the scrape of his teeth, when so much as brush of a kiss in that vicinity had him jerking away before.

 

If Hux had any reason to believe that Ren might keep up this infuriating rejection permanently, he might be more annoyed than he is. As it is, it's more of a probationary period, and it isn't completely disagreeable.

 

Kylo gets better. Hux lets him practice as much as he wants. Sometimes he returns the favour; his fingers curled in silky heat, soaked with his wetness and Kylo's cock hot in his mouth, and while he doesn't take pleasure in the act the way Ren appears to, he can't think of anything he enjoys more than having Ren writhing under his touch - in his bed. Where he should be.

 

***

 

"Hux," Kylo says. His volume is a mere fraction of what it was a few moments ago and Hux listens to him with half an ear while he unsuccessfully tries to work the taste of come out of his mouth.

 

"Hux?"

 

"What is it?" He cuts himself short just before a term of endearment can follow which leaves the sentence awkwardly open-ended, although in his post-orgasmic idiocy Kylo doesn't appear to take any notice.

 

Ren's foot flexes against his shoulder when Hux withdraws his fingers, relishing in the soft clutch of Ren's body and the way he moans at the loss like he's reluctant to let go of him.

 

In this regard only is Hux willing to admit that his relative inexperience with the _delicate designation_ sometimes leaves him feeling bewildered and wrong-footed when it comes to this particular aspect of their relationship.

 

He is aware that some alphas never have any problems in this area because they don't mind being buffeted about by their hormones on a general basis, but that kind of instinctual know-how has never come easily to him. When he could have been learning about the finer points of courting and reproductive psychology he was busy climbing the military ladder and making sure his competitors met with unfortunate accidents.

 

It's a period of his life that he may look back on with mixed feelings but certainly not regret, and he can't imagine that any of the pretty, well-mannered omegas at the academy could have prepared him for Kylo Ren anyway.

 

But looking at him now he thinks Kylo looks content - _happy_ \- and that satisfies some base directive in him, in return. And he still marvels that Ren is willing to bare himself so openly - that he's able to lie there and _look happy_ without fearing rejection or ridicule in return, and when exactly did he stop expecting the knife in the back, because Hux isn't sure he's ready to give up on putting it there.

 

In between heats Kylo smells more like Hux than himself now, with that sticky-sweet undercurrent he lends to it, and just being near him puts Hux at ease, so of course Kylo has to ruin it.

 

"Do you want to put your tongue in me?" Kylo asks, in the same tone someone else might ask about the weather or the cantina menu. Even without the mask he can make his voice impressively flat when he wants to.

 

It takes Hux a second to work out the practicalities of what he's asking for, and then his face instantly twists in disgust.

 

"Absolutely not. That sounds utterly unhygienic."

 

He can tell Kylo is amused by his (completely warranted!) squeamishness, which he supposes is preferable to insulted or enraged. Ren's face is carefully neutral when he speaks.

 

"That resistance pilot didn't seem to mind."

 

Every muscle in Hux's body freezes. The next thing he knows he has Ren knocked down on the bed with one hand clenched around his neck.

 

"You'll want to think very carefully about what you say next."

 

"You haven't done it before," Kylo realizes, eyes lighting up. He tries to sit up and only succeeds in strangling himself, and he settles back into the bedding, eyes bright with barely tempered excitement. It occurs to Hux that Ren might have developed some erroneous assessments about the extent of Hux's previous sexual experience. "I could show you. I won't even be mean about it, unlike some people."

 

Hux's hand tightens fractionally, nails turning into the soft skin of Kylo's throat.

 

"I liked it," he says now, soft and low and deliberately antagonizing.

 

"Ren, what did we say about pushing?"

 

Ren's mouth twists, but he looks genuinely contrite when he looks up through the thick fan of his lashes and mutters, "Sorry." The little shit.

 

Hux grabs Ren by the crook of his leg and presses his knee into his shoulder, keeping him pinned and open under the weight of his body while he guides his cock into Ren's tight heat; soft and welcoming after his orgasm and the three fingers Hux had in him, and so hot around him it makes his breath catch. He braces his hand against the bed and starts fucking him with slow, even thrusts while Kylo's hands grab at him wherever they can reach, digging gouges into his skin, pulling him in.

 

Kylo nuzzles against the knee tucked into his shoulder until he finds Hux's thumb and closes his mouth over it, and just the sight of it has Hux groaning, pressing the meat of his thumb against the flicker of Kylo's tongue. It feels like a thread of pleasure drawn between his thumb and his cock when Kylo sucks; the clench of his body and the wet heat of his mouth, and Hux has to lean in and catch Kylo's mouth in fear of coming too quickly - Kylo rising up to meet him with more fervour than Hux thinks he deserves.

 

"What if it's a condition for your proposal?" Kylo asks when they part, panting slightly as Hux picks up the pace, clinging to a conversation Hux is more than ready to be done with.

 

Hux huffs. "If that's your condition, I won't have you."

 

\-----

 

There is something to be said about being blown by someone who knows exactly what you want, when you want it, but in his heart Hux doesn't think anything will compare to the inexperience of those first precious, abysmal attempts.

 

\-----

 

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor with Kylo kneeling between his legs when it happens.

 

Whether it's Ren who stays down too long of Hux who grips him in the throes of passion is anyone's guess, but even in that blissful half-moment of his climax, Hux can tell when it all goes horribly wrong.

 

His body tenses - a jolt of bliss and the rush of release, and Ren tries to pull back and catch it in his mouth and ...can't. Then he starts panicking and Hux isn't sure he wouldn't be doing the same if he was capable of any kind of complex brain function at the moment.

 

Something in the universe _hates_ him, because while every nerve and cell in his body wants to lie flat on his back until the ceiling comes back into focus, he has to deal with this nonsense instead.

 

Hux curses, grips hard at Kylo's head to keep him from pulling away because it's really too late for that. The sharp edge of his teeth biting into the sensitive skin behind the swell of the gland has Hux on edge, even while he's still shooting off down Kylo's throat, and Kylo isn't doing a very good job of not choking on his come.

 

"Stop trying to breathe, just swallow," he says, putting the inflection of a command behind it.

 

Ren whines, his large hands flexing on Hux's knees, but Hux is relieved to see this is one of the times when he follows direction, even when his face is going from red to white by the time Hux has spent himself, (and there's nothing he can do about that so there's no reason to feel bad about it).

 

Then it's a struggle not to panic. He slips his fingers into Kylo's mouth, feels around for any sort of solution, and when one isn't forthcoming he wedges his thumb in between his teeth so he can't do anything crazy like bite down.

 

"Do _not_ bite down," he says.

 

Ren's eyes flick up to his.

_Won't._

The reply in his mind is instantaneous but lacking any of the finesse or strength of Ren's usual communication, and Hux is painfully aware of the fact that he doesn't really have any alternative solution, either. He still says, "I'll fix this, give me a second," and the easy acceptance in Kylo's eyes makes him feel worse, because he has no idea how to, really.

 

Panicking won't help the matter, so he keeps the litany of _fuckfuckfuck_ to himself and hopes Kylo isn't listening in. ~~~~

"Try to sit up and keep your throat straight," he suggests, mind working in overtime trying to put together basic knowledge of the human respiratory system and his own experience in oral sex to come up with what might be the best position to breathe in.

 

Shadows start forming around Kylo's eyes and his mouth, and on his colourless complexion they're tinted blue by the time they find a position that works and Hux has gone down enough for Kylo to manage that first, thin sip of air through his nose.

 

Not good, but it is oxygen, and Hux lets the fear that he was holding at bay run off him in relief.

 

"Slow breaths. You're doing fine."

 

 Kylo's entire body struggles to take in enough oxygen to fill up his lungs but the death-like blue tint is fading from his face and the weight of his body lessens when he slowly sits up, coughing and sniffling and rubbing the wetness out of his eyes with the heel of his palm, and it's _ridiculous_.

_Dislocate my jaw if I pass out._

That's a horrifying thought, but not the first one Hux has. "Are you that fond of my knot?"

 

Now that the immediate threat has passed Ren glares at him, just for a second before embarrassment gets the better of him and he looks away. His nose is pressed flush against the ruddy curls of Hux's groin and his mouth warm and gentle on his cock, and suffocating or not, he looks good there.

 

Hux pets him for a while, transfixed and unwilling to look away; runs his knuckles over Kylo's cheek and thumbs at the corner of his mouth where it's stretched taut, saliva trickling out. It's so wet - wetter than when they're three days into his heat and Hux has already fucked him full before going in for a second round. Kylo is making frustrated, whining noises in his throat and Hux can feel the sound vibrating around his length which is even worse than listening to it.

 

He isn't doing either of them any favours by looking so he drops back down on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, laying one arm over his sweating forehead. Of all the stupid times and places he has tied Ren, this one will be hard to beat.

 

"Why do we keep doing this?" he asks the room at large, because there has to be some fucking reason.

 

Kylo, predictably, doesn't answer. There's only the soft click of his throat and the subsequent pressure when he swallows, the lazy, involuntary flicker of his tongue, and Hux waits to hear the next thin inhalation before he stops worrying.

 

He isn't sure how Snoke would arrange his demise for suffocating the apple of his eye on his cock, but it can't be more mortifying that the actual reality of it.

 

Something about the absurdity of the situation gets to him; the humiliated flush over Ren's cheeks which Hux can recall vividly even though he isn't actually looking at him right now; the gentle way Ren is cradling his cock - like he's actually willing to suffocate himself on it rather than so much as scrape it with his teeth in accident, and the continuous _whinging_ which hits Hux somewhere between nails on a chalkboard and music to his ears.

 

The alarmed noise Kylo makes when he realizes Hux is actually getting hard again jerks Hux out of his reverie.  Ren's teeth clench, just a little, and he pinches the inside of Hux's thigh in a purely vindictive gesture.

 

"Ow, _fuck_! Stop that," Hux hisses. "Stop sounding like you want to get fucked and that won't happen," he snaps at Ren who can't do anything but blink at him angrily.

 

Hux tries not to think about the warm grip around his cock, but the more Kylo fights it, the more his throat constricts, and it's having the absolute opposite of the desired effect.

 

Hux reaches for the side of the bed but he can't really move without Ren's cooperation and his fingers fall far short of the bedside table.

 

"Data pad," he says, flushing at how breathy his voice sounds. "Get it for me."

 

Kylo makes a sound like he's trying to speak and instantly chokes. Hux grips his head just enough to guide him back into a better position, ignoring the way his fingers quiver over the distended line of Kylo's throat. "Don't move, you _idiot_ ," he hisses. "You're going to pass out. Deep breath."

 

The shuddering breath Kylo takes isn't deep by any stretch of the imagination, throat fluttering around Hux's length to sip what little air he can, but it's something.

 

If he starts crying and clogs up his nose with snot they'll really be in trouble. Or if he passes out. Or throws up. And even if Hux occasionally wants to knock some sense into him, he'd rather not kill him.

 

He listens for a few more breaths, Kylo's chest struggling to expand, but he calms down, tilting back into the right angle which, while it doesn't look comfortable, at least works.

 

"Get the data pad," Hux tells him again. He nods at the bedside table and in a moment it's flung at him with a bit more force than Hux personally thinks was called for.

 

He lies back down and turns it on. He instantly rejects his own work folders or anything he might associate with this in the future, and settles on shipping logs. Enough to hold his interest but not anyone's idea of stimulating by any means. He keeps an ear out for Kylo's breathing but otherwise resolutely ignores everything that goes on below his navel.

 

About a quarter of an hour later Kylo finally detaches with a slurping sound - obscenely loud in the loaded silence. He slumps against the foot of the bed, too exhausted even gasp for breath. He's still unsteady on his feet when he finally stands up and starts stumbling around the room for his discarded clothes, looking every bit like the mess he is.

 

"Do you need anything?" Hux asks, fully prepared to deal with explosive anger or explosive melancholy, or anything else in Ren's limited but volatile spectrum of coping methods.

 

"No." he says, face as red as Hux's feels, and he slips the mask over his head and flees the scene without another word. ~~~~

Hux drops back on the bed and rubs his hands over his face roughly. Then he picks up the data pad. He makes sure Ren's tracker is heading towards his rooms and not any unsuspecting staff or machinery and sends the domestic droid to Ren's quarters see to him.


	4. Generosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that was a long time between chapters, I'm very sorry about that. I want to thank everyone who commented and gave me kudos during this very long hiatus, it kept me going and determined not to leave you hanging, even if it took longer than I wished to get back to posting. Really, I can't thank you enough for your patience and support <3

It's only a matter of time before Snoke decides to interfere on the matter of Hux's relationship with his apprentice, for better or worse. Hux has been expecting it so it comes as no specific surprise when the Supreme Leader asks him to stay behind after a meeting and brings it up.

 

Hux stands straight as he always does, his hands clenching tightly around each other behind his back while the blue-tinted spectre of the Supreme leader gazes down at him with his black eyes.

 

"I'm pleased with your progress with Kylo Ren."

 

He doesn't explicate further than that, so Hux assumes it has something to do with their _mystical forces_ that his poor mundane brain isn't fit to understand. He clenches his jaw and nods.

 

Efficiency. It's what Hux wanted when this entire affair started --  for Ren to be more efficient, so why does he have to smother the low-burning resentment in his stomach at the thought of their hard-earned coexistence being measured only in its usefulness to someone else.

 

Hux has dedicated his life  -- his entire being to the First Order, yet he feels as selfish and stubborn as a child as he stands there before the Supreme Leader, unable or unwilling to cede control of this one thing.

 

Not for the firs time he wonders if Ren's abysmal personality is catching.

 

Snoke goes on. "Deepening your relationship further may be beneficial, but I won't have my apprentice distracted. You will proceed after his training is complete."

 

Is that a prediction or a command, Hux wonders.

 

"He hasn't agreed-" he starts, but Snoke cuts him off, brushing his concerns aside as mere trifles.

 

"He'll do what I tell him to."

 

Ren would comply if Snoke ordered it -- because his obedience is blind, and possibly because it's what he wants, too. Hux is _reasonably_ sure the only reason Ren keeps turning him down is because he finds it amusing to be difficult, aside from Snoke's standing orders, of course, but he doesn't _know_.

 

He can't put his finger on why the Supreme Leader's indifference to Ren's wishes on the matter bothers him so much, the same way the thought of waiting for Snoke's say-so to pursue his own lover does.

 

Does Ren know that his master is bargaining him away without any regard to his own feelings on the matter? Does he even care, or would he go as willingly to anyone Snoke chose for him? There he stumbles upon the crux of it. The thought of Ren being something Snoke has given to him rather than something he won on his own.

 

 _I can't have two masters_ , Ren had told him. Hux hadn't thought much of it at the time, but he doesn't _want_ Ren to have two masters, and for the first time in memory he hears the tender, unguarded wish in his heart that begs _choose me_ , and _obey me first_.

 

\-----

 

Ren is still a menace. Since the two of them have been avoiding each other since The Incident (which, through mutual and unspoken agreement is never to be brought up again,) it isn't any wonder that he starts acting out. Temper tantrums aren't anything Hux expects to cure Ren of entirely outside of his wildest fever dreams, but that doesn't mean he's of a forgiving mind when they happen.

 

There isn't any controlling Ren; Hux knows this. The best he can hope for is his willing cooperation; the desperate desire for Hux's approval that is surely hiding somewhere in that perfectly coiffed and messed up head of his.

 

Hux passes a few soldiers and officers in the hall and they all wear the same expressions of guilty gratitude as they hurry past in the opposite direction. Expressions that says _better you than me_.

 

When he reaches the scene Ren is already turned towards the door to face him, still simmering with rage where he stands with his extinguished sabre dangling from his grip, his shoulders and chest heaving with heightened emotion more than exertion. The wall behind him, unidentifiable now, is melting and the air filled with the acrid, choking smell of burned plastics and alloys.

 

"Helmet off." Hux orders in tight clipped tones, feeling his own temper flare at the sight.

 

Ren hesitates but not long enough for it to make a difference. When Hux reaches him he grips Kylo's chin in his gloved hand, _tightly,_ to counter his own body which is shaking in rising anger, his fingers digging into bone and bruising the skin and flesh in between.

 

He can't miss the way the Kylo's eyes flutter closed and he leans into the touch, slouching a little to bring them closer in height like he's expecting a kiss rather than the trashing he deserves, and Hux's teeth clench together so hard he fears he's going to have to moove up his next appointment to the dentist. He can feel the blood rushing to his head, the heat radiating off his face in a fury he's sure Kylo is able to feel more accurately than most.

 

"Are you getting off on this?" His voice is tight with disgust and a red flush spreads over Ren's face in answer. "Is that what this is? You're forcing me to deal with your behaviour because you can't control yourself? Every omega aboard this ship is the very picture of decorum, professionalism and restraint of their baser instincts, and I have you! Why is that, Ren?" He has backed them up, quite unknowingly while he speaks until Kylo's back hits a wall and stop their progression.

 

"What does that say about you, General?" Ren leans against his hold, something terrifying in his dark eyes even when his voice is so deceptively soft. "You think I can't tell? You could have anyone else if you chose to."

 

"If Snoke won't discipline you," Hux grinds out, "I'll do it myself."

 

Kylo's gloved hand comes up to gently close over his writs but he doesn't do anything to lift Hux's hand away. Hux can tell by the sudden brightness in his eyes that he has switched gears abruptly, that whatever was the cause of this latest eruption has fled his mind as swiftly as a delinquent speeding away from a crime scene.

 

He frowns, indignant. Is that what it will come down to? Distraction?

 

"I wouldn't mind, if you did that, sometime," Ren says. His eyes are boring into Hux's, directly challenging. Hux steps away from him with disgust and lets him go. Maybe that's punishment enough.

 

\-----

 

The matter of their relationship doesn't come up again for a time, but Hux finds himself thinking about it constantly. He already spends an indecent amount of his day thinking about Ren; he doesn't need to waste any more on wondering _why_ he finds himself drawn to that impulsive disaster of  a human being. Less man than a bundle of distorted emotions and impulses. Like the physical manifestation of all those things Hux has never been allowed or able to feel. And he does feel. And if he can't deny it, the only thing left to do is to manage it.

 

There are no more episodes, not for a couple of days at least, and Hux enjoys a smoothly-running and incident-free ship for a few days until his next meeting with Ren.

 

They're in Hux's office, arguing about their conflicting missions and limited resources as usual, but it's somewhat less antagonizing than it used to be, and less taxing on Hux's blood pressure.

 

It still isn't pleasant.

 

The door opens with a hiss and the domestic droid who is accustomed to Hux's daily intake of caf rolls in along with the familiar, reassuring smell of freshly brewed coffee.

 

Ren who is closer to the door is the first to get himself a cup, and in a rare show of regard for someone beside himself, he makes himself useful by pouring out another.

 

Hux stares at him, stunned and once again caught off guard by his own emotional reaction. Ren is irresponsible and clingy and over-emotional; completely at the mercy of his passions whenever and wherever they strike, and yet, Hux is settled on him.

 

He watches Ren measure the draught into a cup and bring it around the table, still expecting Ren to down both of them himself or even throw it in his face until the moment the cup is set down before him.

 

"Thank you," he says primly.

 

Ren doesn't even look up from the blueprints on the table and grunts something dismissive in response.

 

Hux takes a sip of the caf and promptly hacks it back into the cup, being as loud about it as he can.

 

Ren _stares_ at him, eyes wide.

 

"This is disgusting," Hux states and sets the cup down on the table, quite calmly. "Why would you serve that to me?"

 

" _I_ didn't make it," Ren says slowly, cautiously feeling out the extent of Hux's sudden bout of insanity. "Mine was fine."

 

Hux feels a warmth in his own face but he won't let that deter him and clears his throat. "I drink Spirancaf."

 

"You can just-" Ren looks behind him but the droid has already left to dispense its  gift of caffeine elsewhere.

 

"Apparently I can't."

 

"Sorry," Ren says, very slowly and insincerely. Hux looks him down squarely and tries not to dwell on how sweet it is; Ren looking like he's trying to figure out if he's in trouble, and  if he's going to put up with it.

 

"You're sorry?"

 

Something dark flickers in Kylo's eyes and his expression shifts. His pupils swallow the brown of his iris. "I'm _really_ sorry," he says, all deference and remorse suddenly, voice dropping low, and when Hux pushes his chair back from the table Kylo's eyes are glued to his lap.

 

"Show me how sorry you are."

 

\-----

 

It's nothing like whipping him. For one thing Hux isn't upset with him at all just then -- not even a little -- which is a startling discovery in and of itself. There are no excuses to hide behind; the only reason they're doing this is because Ren _wants_ it and Hux is inclined to give it to him, and there's a certain pleasure in that that feels almost as satisfying as disciplining him.

 

Ren's braced with one palm flat against the floor, the other clutching at the leg of Hux's trousers, his own pulled down just enough to let Hux's hand access to his bare bottom without giving him any release. His grip clenches involuntarily every time Hux's hand comes down on his upturned bottom and he nearly loses his balance.  The only sound aside from the sharp smack of Hus'x hand against flesh are Kylo's breathless moans. His hair conceals his face but Hux doesn't need to see it to know he's flushed bright red, just as he was when he was stuck on Hux's knot.

 

His hand comes down harder on the next strike. Ren yelps and slides forward, nails turning into Hux's leg to keep himself in place and Hux's palm tingles.

 

"Be quiet, or do you want anyone walking past the door to know you're bent over my knee and enjoying it?"

 

He doesn't answer yes or no, but he quiets, breath shuddering though his entire body where he's pressed heavy and warm over Hux's lap.

 

Hux keeps hitting him with  slow, leisurely strokes -- but with enough force behind them to make sitting down an issue for days -- until his hand starts to smart even through the leather of his glove. The other he keeps steadying on Ren's back or the back of his neck when he raises his head too much. He watches the skin under his hand turn from white to pink to blistering red, the moans and gasps turn into whimpers and pained hisses, but Ren doesn't ask him to stop.

 

When Hux finally does it's because he's at his own limit. It's too hot. The back of his neck is stinging with sweat under his stiff collar and Ren's weight on top of him, rather than just hot and cumbersome as usual, is pressing down uncomfortably on his erection which is painfully constricted by his uniform trousers already.

 

"Down."

 

Kylo slides off his lap just like that to kneel between Hux's splayed thighs while Hux frees his straining cock from its confines. Kylo's weight is on his legs to keep contact of his sore bottom, and Hux imagines the bruises that would form if he had used something heavier; harder. His stance is wide to make room for the answering hardness in his trousers, which Hux knows are at least more forgiving than his uniform.

 

It's so good Hux feels light headed when he can finally put his hand around his cock, swollen and leaking and dark at the head, his hand sliding easily in the precome.

 

"Nuh-uh," he says when Kylo reaches for him, nudges the toe of his boot against his leg. "Who said you could touch me? Just sit there and keep your hands to yourself. And close your mouth, you look like a bird."

 

Kylo's jaw snaps closed with a little click of teeth and he settles for pouting.

 

It doesn't take Hux many stroke before he's coming in thick, white stripes over Kylo's upturned face, watching him flinch and close his eyes and struggle not to move away or nearer at the same time. But he stays still, even when a strand clings to his lashes, some sliding down his cheek to drip onto his cowl, he keeps perfectly still until Hux is finished and slumps back into his chair, breathing heavily.

 

Fuck, that was satisfying

 

He realizes his foot has been rubbing up and down Kylo's leg in a caress, and he doesn't stop.

 

"I want to come," Kylo says softly. The movement causes a string of come on his lip to slip into his mouth and he presses his lips together. Hux follows the bob of his throat with his eyes.

 

He catches the tip of his glove between his teeth and pulls it off so he can use his thumb to coax the cum clinging to Kylo's face towards his mouth; over the bridge of his nose and his cheek and between his lips. Kylo closes his mouth around Hux's thumb when he swallows.

 

"Do you think you deserve it?"

 

He's so torn, eyes wide and shining while he worries his lip between his teeth, but eventually Kylo shakes his head mutely.

 

"Why is that?"

 

It takes him a moment to work it out and remember the nonsense that started this. "Because you... didn't like your caf?"

 

It's a good thing Hux doesn't have a sense of humour or he might have trouble keeping a straight face.

 

"Then what are you still doing here? Get up and get out."

 

Hux doesn't feel half as confident as the words that come out of his mouth, and he watches, measuring, as Kylo stands up, supporting himself on the table and swaying lightly on his feet for a moment. His scent wafts up, sticky and unsated, and Hux wants to reach out and pull him closer, no matter how tall of fucking heavy he is to hold, but for once Ren looks perfectly content to leave.

 

Hux doesn't look at Ren, he focuses on tucking himself away and putting himself back together while Ren rights his clothes and slides the helmet back over his head, sealing himself inside with Hux's come still clinging to his face.

 

"I expect to see you after last shift. And don't touch yourself."

 

Hux doesn't look up, but in his peripheral vision he sees Kylo pause by the door.

 

The mechanical rumble of his voice is like an animal purring over the white noise of the air conditioning. "Okay."

 

Only after he has left does Hux realize that they still have half of their work left to be done. He picks up his data pad with newfound contentment. It will be so much quicker without Ren's input.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, let me know if you enjoyed it, or if you didn't, and I'm always grateful for constructive criticism. I'm relatively sure it won't take me a year to get the next chapter out ^^


	5. Affection

The droid makes an appearance while Kylo is in the shower, the spray beating down cold over the back of his neck and his hands braced against the wall to keep from touching himself until the urge goes away.  

 

It's the pushy one with the pink paint job and the pro-drug attitude -- the one he has privately started referring to as the after-care bot because he's pretty sure Hux is the one who keeps sending it over, unless it's just the rudest droid he's ever met.

 

He comes out of the shower and there it is, holding up a pre-heated and pre-fluffed towel for him to step into. He still isn't quite comfortable with the way it keeps letting itself into his quarters, but as long as it's making itself useful he can't really bring himself to throw it out, either, and it knows it. He also has a sneaking suspicion that it would put up a fight if he tried.

 

"I'm not in heat yet," he points out, in case it's harbouring any misunderstandings on that front, but the droid doesn't comment and starts handing him his hair products instead, one after another.

 

"No," he scolds when it hopefully holds up the anti-bruising cream.

 

There's a message from Hux waiting for him when he comes out of the refresher. A simple 'cut your nails' along with a snapshot of his calf marred by three long, fresh scratches. Kylo smiles at the picture and sits down on the bed with a pair of clippers and a stifled gasp and starts trimming down his toe nails. The droid comes over to show off some sort of blunt buffer drill thing which it puts to use on his cuticles and the hardened skin on his soles. "Is this why the General's feet are so soft?" he asks and wonders if it's capable of giving foot massages.

 

The droid beeps an affirmative, and after they're done Kylo holds his feet still while it paints his toenails in glossy, star-speckled black.

 

Aside from a steady brush and good eye for hair products, it also has some other new features which he discovers when it puts its new vibrating massage claw-thing  on his shoulder and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

 

\-----

 

 

Kylo is meditating when Hux _finally_ shows up, hours later. He's on his knees because even if he could sit down it has proven to be a distraction.

 

Hux lingers by the door, hands fisted loosely at his sides and face contorted in an expression that speaks of a conflict of emotion and not at all the smooth-browed contentment Kylo left him with earlier that afternoon. It's as if he's physically holding himself back from coming any further, which is just dumb because there's no reason for him to hold back on anything at all. He's an ocean of fucked-up with even more fucked up things lurking under the waves, and Kylo wants all of it.

 

He doesn't resist when Kylo pulls him forward by the lapels of his jacket, or when he pushes it off Hux's shoulders along with anything else he can get his hands on.

 

"You're so bottled up," he grumbles while Hux predictably complains about wrinkles until the droid comes over to pick his clothe up off the floor where Kylo has dropped them. "It's annoying."

 

"We can't all be paragons of reckless abandon," Hux says, his mouth curled up in aversion and Kylo is irresistibly compelled to kiss him while he backs them up towards the bedroom.

 

Despite his initial hesitation Hux is just as busy divesting Kylo of his clothes, hands confident with the ease of practice. Kylo shakes his head out of his shirt when Hux pulls it over his head and falls back on the bed, lifting his hips for Hux to pull his trousers down his legs.

 

"You can take your frustrations out on me," he suggests to Hux who merely raises an eyebrow. "It'll be good for you." It really would. Maybe then he'd stop dreaming about blowing up planets and shooting the rest of the council at his High Command meetings.

 

"Are you seriously going to pretend this is for my benefit rather than yours?"

 

"It'll be mutually beneficial. Isn't that the way it ought to be?"

 

Hux climbs on top of him and presses Kylo's hands down to the mattress. Kylo goes with it, relaxing under him because the loose grip around his wrists feels pleasant, although he's less than pleased about the knee that's shoved between his thighs, a little too high to be to be comfortable.

 

He makes a sound he isn't proud of and the pale circle of green around Hux's pupils grows thinner, but before they get any further they're interrupted by the distressed chatter of the droid which is speeding towards them through the open bedroom door, its many tiers of arms rotating in alarm as if it's shaking its finger at them.

 

 Kylo would throw something at it but Hux still has his arms pinned to the bed.

 

"Leave," Hux says, somewhat more constructively.

 

The droid elects to ignore him and chitters back in a tone that has Kylo raising his eyebrows because even he wouldn't talk back like that unless he's specifically looking to get hit, which does happen.

 

"For goodness' sake," Hux finally snaps.  "I'm not going to _kill_ him. And even if I did it is none of your business!"

 

The droid makes a downright rude noise to the contrary and starts rattling off rules of conduct and protocol that Hux clearly isn't interested in listening to.

 

"Ren, order your droid to remove itself."

 

" _My_ droid?" ~~~~

 

The droid in question takes the opportunity to move closer towards them, one appendage ominously outstretched ahead of it. Kylo tips Hux off him and over to the side because he knows it's capable of inflicting at least third degree burns and light electric shocks if it puts its mind to it. Hux squeaks in indignation and nearly tumbles off the bed while Kylo sits up and faces the droid that has, at least, halted in its valiant charge.

 

"What's the problem?"

 

It's frantic rambling is difficult to follow but understanding slowly dawns. In astonishment Kylo turns to Hux who's watching the two of them with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

"Did you reprogram a droid to look after me?"

 

"Of course not," Hux sputters as if he's insulted by the mere suggestion. "Don't be preposterous. I had someone else do it."

 

Kylo is at a loss for how to respond to that, but he sees some of what he's feeling reflected in the budding blush that's spreading over Hux's cheeks; unexpected and somehow lovelier than the shade of red that's usually accompanied by yelling.

 

"Clearly I shouldn't have." His words are short and clipped. He's embarrassed and subsequently angry because of it, but knowing that doesn't really give Kylo any indication of how to fix it. "Now give it your override or we'll be here all night."

 

Rather than doing as his says Kylo tumbles him down on the bed and holds him there while he leaves gentle but firm licks and kisses under his jaw. Hux grunts in annoyance, probably because he can tell he's being mollified, but he settles down nonetheless and slowly, reluctantly, Kylo can feel the tension ebb off him.

 

"Did it have to be pink?" Kylo asks after a while.

 

"What?" Hux glances over at the droid as if he has never seen it before, though Kylo would think the pinkness would be hard to miss.  "It's coral-- never mind." Hux rubs his hand over his face. "The colour didn't really factor into it. I though you were partial to that one specifically."

 

It's Kylo's turn to furrow his brow in confusion. The droid -- the _pink_ droid -- is still whirring restlessly at the foot of the bed. It occurs to him that he has never bothered to learn it's designation, but the letters printed on the side of its pink-and-white dome spell out M-E-684.

 

"It's the only one you never damaged," Hux says.

 

It's true that some of the medical droids may have ended up with a dent or two if they got in the way of something else he was throwing around, and he vaguely remembers one losing a few limbs when it touched him when he wasn't expecting it, but Kylo has never intentionally tried to damage them as far as he can recall.

 

But this one is the one with the temperature-regulated storage which meant warm custard and cold drinks, and he supposes that that might be why he felt less inclined to throw things at it, but it was probably entirely coincidental.

 

He isn't sure whether he  should be flattered or insulted that Hux thought he needed a domestic droid to look after him, but he is still annoyingly touched that Hux went through the trouble not only to make sure he has a droid designated to his personal comfort, but that he put some thought into it. And his room does look neater than it used to, with less dust and ashes gathered in the corners.

 

"I'll have it repainted," Kylo says magnanimously and ignores the indignant squeak from the foot of the bed.

 

"If that's what you want," Hux says, exasperated but possibly a little fond too and Kylo turns his attention away from him for long enough to rattle off his command override and dismiss the interloper. M-E wheels away, bleeping uncharitably to itself the entire way out into the hall until the door finally slides shuts behind it.  

 

Kylo crawls back over to Hux, kisses him with his hands cupped around his face and gives in to the urge that isn't showing any signs of abating no matter how many times they do this. If anything it's getting worse, and that's worrying when he lets himself think about it too much, so he doesn't. He focuses on the hunger in Hux's kisses and his touches; a little mean like he can't quite help himself. In fact he has grown progressively meaner the longer they've been doing this, and there's an honesty in that that Kylo welcomes.

 

 Hux's hands drift down to grab at his ass and his thighs where the bruises sit under his skin, radiating hot and sore in the wake of ever touch. The deeper pain is easier to deal with than his over-sensitized skin which still has him hissing with every light brush of Hux's hand.

 

"Let me up." Hux gives him a last stinging smack on the thigh and Kylo rolls over a little too quickly. _Like a dog_ , Hux thinks as he pushes Kylo's legs apart as settles between them, and _such a good bitch_ , just because he knows Kylo can hear him.

 

Kylo likes being fucked on his back the most. He hasn't told Hux because he knows "I like looking at your face" would be met with horror above all else, but it's true nonetheless.

 

Hux pushes inside, slowly at first because Kylo is tight but wet enough that it almost doesn't matter as Hux keeps going, carving out space for himself as he picks up the pace; a little quicker and a little harder while Kylo's cock fills out between them.

 

 Every touch against the bruised area is a little too much -- like the topmost layer of skin has been flayed off-- It's a persistent pain, but it's good, knowing Hux put it there. Not just because Kylo asked for it, but because Hux wanted to give it to him. A constant reminder of the almost physical mortification he still feels over being bent over Hux's lap and having his come on his face, but somewhere between the pleasure and the unbearableness of it, it's exactly what he wants; toes curling, muscles tensing and releasing and Hux sweating and panting above him and looking down at him like he wants to eat him alive.

 

"Stop clawing at me, you uncivilized harpy." Hux grabs his hands and presses them back down on the bed, but he doesn't stop moving either so it can't bother him that much, although Kylo's fingers twitch against Hux's with the urge to touch him, pull him in closer and he finds himself subconsciously raising his head, asking for Hux's mouth.

 

It's perfect, and then Hux stops. Kylo grunts at him and tries to force him to move but he's pinned down awkwardly; hips off the bed and most of Hux's weight and his own bearing down on him.

 

Before he can start to argue Hux clamps his palm over his mouth and cuts him off. Kylo could shove Hux off him, but that seems counter-productive to what he wants.

 

"Be quiet and listen to me." Hux's bony fingers grip a little too tightly, digging into Kylo's cheek and he flexes his jaw only to have Hux's grip tighten until he's sure bruises are forming. It doesn't matter because he wears a mask and Hux is the only one who will see them anyway.

 

"Snoke has informed me that he's going to decide whether you are allowed to accept my claim or not and when you're going to accept it."

 

Kylo groans. Why they need to have this conversation in the middle of sex is beyond him but Hux hovers over him, fringe hanging sweaty over his forehead and jaw clenched stubbornly, and he's obviously not going to move until gets what he wants to say off his chest.

 

"You're going to ignore him," Hux says, tone deceptively reasonable, "and you're going to accept me of your own volition, when you feel like doing so. Do you understand?" He slowly lifts his hand off Kylo's mouth. The absence of it is pronounced in the cool air.

 

"This is when you nod and say 'Yes, Hux'."

 

Kylo wonders if he has inadvertently caused him any sort of serious brain damage for all the times he has been rummaging around in there, and his already frayed temper flares.

 

"What do you think I've been doing? Snoke didn't order me to sleep with you for fun and recreation or to let you spank me because I feel like it."

 

Hux sits up which finally allows Kylo to lower his legs. He squirms under Hux's penetrating gaze and the unpleasant scrape of the sheets against the irritated skin of his ass.

 

"Does that mean you do accept my proposal?"

 

"No," Kylo sniffs. "I'll know when you're ready."

 

"Are you--" Hux splutters. "Don't patronize me, Ren!"

 

"You don't have exclusive rights to condescension."

 

Hux pulls out and before Kylo has the chance to tell him off hands are pushing and pulling at him. He turns over with Hux's hand is in his hair, holding his head down while Kylo raises himself up on his knees to meet the welcome hardness of Hux's cock against his thigh and then pressing back inside. Kylo whinges at the angle re-entry at first and drops his shoulders to settle into a better position. Hux drives into him hard, barely giving him time to adjust. Kylo's breath is caught awkwardly in his chest and the moans that spill out of his mouth hardly feel like they're of his own making.

 

Hux's hand comes down hard on the side of his ass and forces a startled shout out of him. The lingering sting aches and he's reminded of how red he must be, if he hasn't turned purple already, and he turns his face deeper into the crook of his arm to hide the responding flush on his face.

 

Hux hits him again, and again, and Kylo can't keep in the cries that rise from his throat, half stunned and half overwhelmed with the pain which is just on the right side of too much after their earlier session that afternoon. Every sting of Hux's palm feels like he's driving needles under his skin and every plunge of Hux's cock over his prostate drives out the pain with pleasure.

 

Hux leans down over his back, teeth ghosting over the shell of Kylo's ear. "Some day I'm going to keep going until you cry," he promises. He lets up but digs his fingers into the abused swell of Kylo's ass, wrenching a choked shout out of his throat. Kylo gets one hand under his body to grip his cock and comes like a teenager at the first touch of his hand.

 

Hux keeps going, drawing out his orgasm while Kylo struggles to regain his breath, and he likes it like that; likes that over-used feeling of too much stimulation; likes taking the knot like this, when he's sated and boneless and without the immediacy of his own pleasure on his mind.

 

"Come on," he urges, batting weakly at Hux when he feels the knot forming.

 

"We need to talk about this," Hux says tersely.

 

What, _now_?" They have fights about this on a regular basis, and Hux consistently picks the worst possible times for them.

 

"We're not doing this every time." Hux says firmly. He has stopped moving, cock still sheathed inside just up to where the knot is forming, and Kylo could scream in frustration.

 

_"Why?"_

 

"Because it just isn't feasible! I'm not waking up an hour earlier in the morning just so you can get knotted."

 

"You hardly sleep anyway, what's the big deal?" He pulls his arms up under him and drops his weight on his shoulder so he can reach back and grab Hux and seriously considers using the force just to get him moving again. "You don't have any excuse not to now!"

 

"It's the principle of the matter," Hux insists, which is such fucking bullshit because Kylo can feel him shaking with the effort to hold himself back.

 

Kylo is a little jumped up on endorphins so he can't be blamed for what he says in the heat of the moment. "You should be _grateful_. You're lucky to have an omega who even _wants_ to be tied with you. You're the fucking worst!"

 

Hux leans down over his shoulder and Kylo's knees almost slide out from under him at the sudden shift of weight.

 

"Do I?" Hux's face looks almost gentle just for a lack of the perpetual sneer he's usually wearing around him. "Do I have an omega?"

 

Kylo stops breathing. When he refuses to answer Hux finally presses his hips forward, the knot pushing at the rim of Kylo's ass, stretching him wide over the girth of it until it finally gives and sinks inside and Kylo turns his face into the mattress with a groan.

 

"You fucking bastard," he swears weakly and feels Hux's mouth against his shoulder and then his neck, brushing lightly over the only part of Kylo's body he hasn't bitten.

 

 "Yeah."

 

He feels the warm burst when Hux comes and the choked sound he makes before he guides them down on their sides and Kylo goes gratefully, arms and legs strengthless and tingling in the aftermath.

 

He dozes through most of the tie and only yawns and opens his eyes when Hux pulls out and they can put some space between themselves. Kylo goes to the refresher to clean up and when he comes back Hux is still in bed and making no immediate moves to get out of it. They're well into the night shift by now so there's no reason for Hux to make the trek back to his own rooms unless he's planning on staying up, but for once he actually looks like he's about to fall asleep rather than wondering where his datapad is.

 

He doesn't stir when Kylo turns off the lights or when he drops into bed next to him and buries half his face in a pillow, feeling warm and languid all over; too tired to move and enjoying the knowledge that he won't have to for several hours. Kylo still can't shut his eyes. He can just make out Hux's profile in the dark.

 

"Ask me again."

 

Hux huffs. "Are you going to say yes?"

 

"Eventually." He is decided on that much already -- has been since the first time Hux scraped his teeth over his throat with intent. He wants to give in; can feel it beckoning like a closed door at the end of a long hallway, but he has no idea what's lurking behind it. Maybe it's that uncertainty that's so difficult to resist. ~~~~

 

"Are you going to ask again?"

 

" _Eventually_ ," Hux parrots back snidely.

 

There aren't any guidelines they can follow.  Neither he nor Hux have any idea what they're doing and the only framework Kylo has is his parents' disastrous relationship which is not something he wants to emulate.

 

"My parents loved each other," he says. He also knows that they loved him, unconditionally, and that love doesn't count for much at the end of the day. Just as he knows that Hux is unburdened by all these sentiments because no one ever claimed to love him, and looking at him now Kylo can't help but think that he ended up the better for it.

 

"Is that what you want?" Hux asks him, and he sounds so horrified that Kylo feels a swell of affection for him despite himself. Love hadn't made his parents get along any better, it hadn't kept them or anything around them together, but Hux's cold determination is the foundation empires are built upon.

 

He moves closer across the pillow until their noses are almost touching and takes in Hux's scent and the soft breath he lets out when Kylo touches his skin.

 

"No. This is better." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who stuck with a very, very slow author for such a long time. <3 I hope you enjoyed the chapter and feedback and constructive criticism is, as always, appreciated. 
> 
> I'm determined to get the next part of the story out before the movie drops, so with any luck that should be out in the next few days...


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